


From The Angel

by ice_hot_13



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_hot_13/pseuds/ice_hot_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonardo was not Ezio's first love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Angel

Leonardo was not Ezio's first love. Before Leonardo, before the world-changing, breathtaking love of Leonardo, there was the love that taught Ezio something else entirely. From Leonardo, he learned what it was to entrust all his heart to someone else, to care for someone else better than he ever did himself. Leonardo was the love that defined Ezio's life, but before him, Ezio first learned sacrifice, learned loss, learned heartbreak.

Before Leonardo, there was Deangelo.

0o0o0o0o0o

He was always going to find out. It couldn't be denied, because something so lasting, so changing, couldn't be hidden for long, and never from someone as smart as Leonardo. He was easily the most brilliant person Ezio had ever known, without even considering anything learned from a book. He knew, somehow he knew, that some part of Ezio was gone, would never come back.

"You've been in love before," Leonardo said softly one night, curled in against Ezio. Ezio sighed out a breath. He should have known Leonardo would figure it out; Leonardo always was able to see right through him. Ezio had mentioned it earlier; to Leonardo, it must have been blatantly obvious that when Ezio said  _not all lovers can be so lucky, not like this,_ he'd been speaking from an experience that didn't belong to the both of them.

"It was a while ago," Ezio said, as if that explained anything at all. Leonardo doesn't say anything, waiting instead of asking. "Four years ago. I was nearly nineteen years old." Leonardo was quiet, as if thinking it over, and Ezio knew he must have had questions. Leonardo always wanted to know more, always fascinated by the endless unknown. "You want to know more," he said, and he couldn't' help the smile, because even though what they were talking about was  _this,_ this thing he'd never dared tell anyone, Leonardo was still somehow, inexplicably, able to make it hurt a little less.

"You don't have to tell me anything. I don't mind," Leonardo said hastily, and he meant it, meant every word, because it didn't seem like he was even remotely capable of lying to Ezio.

"I can show you," Ezio drew him in closer, kissed his forehead, thanking  _Dio_ again that Leonardo was here, his, "tomorrow, I'll show you."

When he finally slept, he dreamed of standing amidst the lilacs in the meadow, completely alone.

0o0o0o0o0o

Tuscany was beautiful. It was clear from the look on Leonardo's face that he hadn't been expecting to end up in the beautiful fields of Tuscany, a place so dreamlike, it didn't seem possible that something terrible could have happened here. The soft green meadows stretched for miles, the tiny lilacs scenting the breeze with a soft sweetness, as if sunshine had a scent. The dirt paths wound a lazy trail towards the town, far in the distance behind them.

_(Ezio barely remembers what the town even looks like, he never stops there for long. He hurtles through and keeps running, down the gentle slopes of the fields towards the scattered homes. Even the grass is warmed by the sun, a seemingly omnipresent warmth here. Even when it rains, it's beautiful, as if everything here was crafted to show what life is supposed to be like. When it rains, puddles collect beside the dusty roads and the grass squishes underfoot, a rain that brings a freshness, not the defeating weight of storms anywhere else. When there's sunshine, though, it's as if the rain never existed.)_

He could practically feel Leonardo's burning curiosity, the way Leonardo was holding himself back. They'd already passed by several of the leaning houses, past rickety wooden fences and horses wandering after farmers. Ezio knew this path through the fields by heart, one no one else knew but him, because it wasn't really a path, because this way didn't take anyone anywhere.

_(The way he smiles, it's like he's been waiting for Ezio. His green eyes, already so bright, light up and the way he smiles, Ezio forgets everything else. This is where he learned to forget. He doesn't have to think about all that he's lost and the way everything in the world is falling to pieces, because he has this, here, and it's always somewhere he can come to forget.)_

It still looked the same, exactly the same. Some part of him might have hoped it was different, but there was still a part that was grateful, blind to the pain, that it felt like stepping back into somewhere he'd just left, like it had been here waiting for him, all this time.

_(There's something that sets him apart, or maybe it's just everything together. The way he looks up at Ezio, sprawled in the grass, lilacs all around, he's something unbelievable. Ezio twines a soft curl between his fingers, kisses the sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of his nose._

" _Deangelo," he whispers, because it's everything he could have said to describe this inhumanly beautiful boy, anyways. His name means "from the angel."_

_Ezio wishes he knew which angel blessed him with this, he's been looking for this angel, he wants to know who to thank every night, thank for every one of the sweetest kisses he's ever tasted)_

"This is where he lives," Ezio said, looking across the meadow at the small, leaning farmhouse, the bunches of wildflowers and the wavering branches of a tree, this perfect scene that had imprinted itself in his mind years ago. "Deangelo."

"Who is he?" Leonardo asked softly, and Ezio looked at him, as if it were obvious.

It took only that look for it to become apparent, but Ezio still said, "my first love."

_(Ezio can't say goodbye to him. He's notorious in every city in Italia, the Templars want_ _him dead, along with everyone he's ever associated with._

_He can't put Deangelo at risk. He can't ruin this perfect boy out of a selfish need to have him, to keep this guarded perfection to himself. He can't see him to say goodbye, and he knows Deangelo would have cried. He can see it, and it becomes his last memory of Deangelo, this memory that never happened and doesn't exist, the thought of those beautiful green eyes brimming with tears, tears that spill over pink cheeks._

_His real last memory is even more painful, because its simple, pure beauty makes it seem heaven-sent, just like Deangelo himself.)_

He had grown up, of course he had grown up, but he still looked the same. His dark curls were still unruly and looked so soft, and his laugh was a beautiful sound that traveled across the meadow. Ezio stood motionless, watching Deangelo run after a playful horse that trotted circles around him.

_("I'm always going to be here," Deangelo says, "no matter when you come back, I'll always be here."_

_"Always?" Ezio asks, because he already knows, someday he's going to have to stop. Someday, he'll have to keep himself from coming back. He knows he may have to give his life for his cause, but giving Deangelo's as well is unbearable, a sacrifice he can't bring himself to make._

_"Always. I promise." Deangelo smiles, like every moment of a morning's sunrise, "whenever you come back, I'll be here, and I'll be yours."_

_He's a small, perfect piece of heaven, and Ezio knows that leaving this will tear him to pieces.)_

He was still here, just like he'd promised. And Ezio knew that he would have kept his promise, every word. There was no one else around, and Deangelo was still there, waiting.

Deangelo was still his.

0o0o0o0o

Leonardo didn't know what to expect when Ezio had said  _I'll show you._ He'd tried, for a while, to imagine possibilities, but they were all painful. While it was undeniable that Ezio had been hurt in the past, and that there was nothing Leonardo could do to change it, he hated considering the possibility, allowing it to become that much more of a reality.

He didn't truly understand until he saw it for himself.

The way Ezio looked at him, at Deangelo, Leonardo knew Ezio loved him. No matter what Ezio had meant to show him, be it this relic from his past, or some sort of explanation, Leonardo could see everything Ezio wasn't admitting to even himself.

Ezio had loved Deangelo. This was what happened, when the love of Ezio's life wasn't his first love; there was a part of Ezio that Leonardo wouldn't ever have, couldn't ever heal.

Despite everything, however, Ezio had loved Deangelo, and he had left, and then, even later, he had moved on.

"Why did you leave him?" Leonardo asked softly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ezio said, "I could never claim the gift from an angel. I would endanger him every day." He looked at Leonardo then, saw him for the first time that day, "I probably shouldn't be with you either. But- I can't possibly- it would be-" he drew in a breath, "I could live without Deangelo. I do, every day, and I'm fine. But you- you are already in this dangerous world with me, it's like I was meant to find you and be yours, because I couldn't leave you. If it would keep you safe, I would try, but I think- you're safer when I can be here with you, and that has to be true for a reason, don't you think?"

Leonardo had never doubted whether Ezio loved him, but this proved it again, over and over again.

"Of course."

Leonardo had become fluent in the locked language of encryption, had created possibility from nothing, had taught a man to fly, and falling in love with Ezio was the most incredible thing that he had ever done.

When something so simple eclipsed achieving the impossible, it could only have been meant to happen.

0o00o0o0o0o0o

_("I love you," Leonardo says, hazel eyes so bright, "do you love me?"_

_In this instant, Ezio thinks of the gift from an angel he left behind, thinks of Deangelo, who promised to always be there, waiting for him. Ezio has kept the terrible promise to himself, to leave Deangelo to save him._

_"Yes," Ezio says, leans in and kisses Leonardo, and it's like finally becoming whole. "I do love you."_

_Maybe he found that perfect, heaven-sent first love only to give it up, to prove that Leonardo was beyond even that. Ezio can live without the boy an angel left on Earth._

_He could never live without Leonardo, who eclipses everything in Ezio's life._

_Maybe that's why his first love wasn't the love of his life- because first he fell for someone perfect, and found the strength to leave him safe, the strength that led Ezio to Leonardo. He loved and left perfection, because it showed him that Leonardo was something beyond perfect; he was uniquely meant for Ezio, perfect for him, perfect in a way that was infinite. He once thought that leaving Deangelo meant he loved him more than anything, but now Ezio understands more. He loves Leonardo more, will stay and fight to keep him safe, keep him safe by loving him. Perhaps an angel gave him Deangelo, to love and have for a while, but Leonardo gave him wholeness, belonging, and the sort of love that Ezio never believed existed._

_Sometimes Ezio wonders if perhaps Leonardo is the angel he was looking for)._


End file.
